


The Blues

by LegolasLovely



Category: Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Robin Hood (BBC 2006) RPF, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Fluff, Reunions, Richard Armitage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 05:20:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegolasLovely/pseuds/LegolasLovely
Summary: Inspired by the song I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues by Elton JohnReader is surprised when Richard comes home early.





	The Blues

You stood alone in the large kitchen of your shared apartment in a shirt of his that you stole and your favorite pair of jeans. You glared at the sautéed vegetables and the water you were boiling for pasta. You missed the delicious meals he often made for you and were not ready for another night of overcooked spaghetti and soggy vegetables. You sighed and swayed to the music in your bare feet.

‘Just stare into space, picture my face in your hands.

Live for each moment without hesitation and never forget I’m your man.’

You turned up the volume on the speakers until you swam in the piano’s melody. This was your song- yours and his. You always listened to it when he was away and you knew he listened to it whenever he especially missed you. He was the one who showed it to you for the first time.

You closed your eyes as you hummed along. You wrapped your arms around yourself and pretended he was there behind you. You felt your chest tighten and you allowed your tears to fall, but essentially ignored them, concentrating on the words he so often sang to you.

You were quickly yanked out of your trance. Someone was pounding on the door. You growled as you headed for the entrance to your apartment, refusing to turn down the music. Your neighbors would just have to deal with it for another hour. When you reached the door, you flung it open and gasped.

“Miss, (Y/L/N), do you realize how loud your music is?”

There he was, home a week early. You snatched him by the neck of his shirt and pulled him inside, slamming the door closed and folding your arms around his neck. You heard his bag drop to the floor and he picked you up with ease and carried you to the kitchen.

You slid down his body until your feet touched the floor, but remained glued to him as he leaned over and shut off the stove. Then his arms were around you again, holding you up with a strong but tender grip. He shifted you so you were dancing, your cheek resting on his shoulder and his fingers laced in yours. Perfect.

You sniffed hard. God, you were so happy to have him back.

“No tears, love,” he said, though his voice was fuzzy with emotion as well. He kissed your hair and his lips remained there as he softly sang to you.

‘But more than ever, I simply love you more than I love life itself.’


End file.
